


New enemies, old safety

by schreibzumlesen



Series: New muses, old pains [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst, Dom/sub Undertones, Eventual Romance, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Punishment, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:33:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26090449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schreibzumlesen/pseuds/schreibzumlesen
Summary: Where Jaskier tries to defend Geralt's honour, Geralt doesn't want him to be killed by an angry mob, and love doesn't exist without fear.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: New muses, old pains [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1894315
Comments: 15
Kudos: 135





	New enemies, old safety

The first few nights away from the manor they spend sleeping on the hard and frosty ground of the forest, Geralt trying his best to make it as comfortable as possible for Jaskier. But despite his efforts, Jaskier rejects Geralt’s attempt to wrap him up in his own blanket and insists that he can deal with the cold, and that he wants Geralt to be warm, too.

Geralt… isn’t quite used to someone who doesn’t belong to Kaer Morhen caring about him in this way, but it’s… nice.

Very nice, actually.

It also causes quite a few arguments between them that Geralt usually wins, and be it because of a well-placed smack on Jaskier’s arse. He still has a lot to learn, they both do, and if this is the best method to get Jaskier to stop fighting against eating and sleeping more than Geralt, he’s not opposed to using it. Still, he finds it hard to find a balance in some moments and it is only when Jaskier asks for a hug after these brief times of discipline that Geralt can be sure he didn’t push him away with his stern behaviour.

At the end, he just wants Jaskier to be safe.

“What about unicorns? Do they exist? I once heard about a farmer who swore on unicorn blood for increased libido. Is that true? Can you even make a potion for that? Or is that not really your field of expertise?” Jaskier asks and then doesn’t wait for Geralt’s answer and chats away about the myths he picked up when he stole himself away from the manor and spent his time in the taverns in Dawnbury.

Geralt doesn’t mind. A Jaskier who talks is usually one that is content and happy, and occasionally Jaskier is satisfied with a grunt and a few explanatory sentences and doesn’t press Geralt for more.

It is at night and before they go to sleep when Geralt tells him more, tells him stories that he remembers from his childhood at Kaer Morhen, and about the knowledge that is so crucial to becoming a Witcher. Then, Jaskier is quiet during his tales, but Geralt knows it’s out of respect not out of fear.

He knows that now, but it took him a few anxious and almost sleepless nights to realize.

“There’s another town, not far away,” he says. “We can reach it before dusk and get a room in an inn.”

“A room? Oh, that would be- I mean, it’s not necessary, you don’t have to spend money, we can sleep outside. I prefer actual nature anyway. The, uh, birds, and the plants, and the snow… you know.”

Geralt raises an eyebrow. “We’re getting a room,” he decides.

Jaskier nods quickly. “Right, of course. If that’s your decision I’m completely fine with accepting it. More than fine, I love your decisions. You’re a great decision-maker.”

“Hm.”

“No, really. People should give you a new name: Geralt of Rivia, Witcher, White Wolf, and Man of Choices. I think it has a nice ring to it, yes?”

“Sure.”

Jaskier smiles at him. “Thank you. For everything, I mean. I appreciate it.”

Geralt focuses on the road but he could get used to the warm and fluttery feeling inside of his chest, though he doesn’t know how to respond.

It turns out that the innkeeper doesn’t rent his rooms to “his lot” and has “a good deal of opinions on Witchers, but will keep them to himself”, as he explains to Geralt and points grimly at the door, which is a minor setback for him but his heart aches slightly for Jaskier who is waiting for him at the stable with Roach. Geralt is used to negative reactions connected to his appearance, but it bothers him that it affects Jaskier now as well.

“We have to leave,” he says when he gets back to the stable, and shit, he’s bad company, there’s no denying that. Not for the first time, doubts start to creep into his thoughts. If he were someone different, Jaskier would have it a lot easier.

But, if Geralt were someone different, he would also still live at the manor. It’s a double-edged sword.

Confused, Jaskier turns around to him while continuing to braid Roach’s mane. “What? Why? Are there no free rooms?”

“Innkeeper doesn’t want Witchers.”

It’s the best to tell Jaskier to truth, so he can choose for himself if he wants to stay with Geralt.

Jaskier’s mouth tightens. “Let me talk to him, I’ll make him change his mind.”

“No. We don’t need any trouble. We’ll find a place to sleep somewhere else.” He can’t expose Jaskier to even more danger than he already faces as Geralt’s companion. Monsters and humans – sometimes he’s not sure which ones are worse.

“But-“

“I said no.” Geralt allows some steel into his voice, but nevertheless, Jaskier stares at him fiercely.

“It’s not fair.”

“I know.” Geralt begins to gather their belongings so they can leave. “We can’t fight it though. I’ve been stoned and chased out of towns like these more than once, I don’t want you to experience that.”

“You know that they’re wrong. They’re fucking wrong.” Jaskier has stopped braiding Roach’s mane and makes a vague gesture towards the inn. “They’re horrible people and you deserve better than that.”

Geralt doesn’t reply, which seems to upset Jaskier even more.

“Geralt, you can’t let them get away with it!”

“I said we’re leaving. Or I can give you some coin and you get a room without me.”

A part of him hopes that Jaskier won’t take this chance, but Geralt knows the thought selfish and that it’s the least he can suggest.

Jaskier crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I’m staying with you.”

Feathery relief replaces the sour misery in Geralt’s chest. “Then we need to go. I’m sorry.” He means it, he really does. Jaskier should have a better life than this, and Geralt can’t help but notice that there’s not much that he can offer except a promise of less violence and abuse. Fuck, he hopes, it’s enough.

They make camp just outside of the small town and Jaskier stares gloomily into the fire as Geralt prepares their dinner. This night, Jaskier doesn’t ask for a story or for more information about Geralt’s past, and he doesn’t even seem to mind the cold. Geralt wishes he could give him more, but he also knows it’s not realistic and that his desire can’t be fulfilled, not with his way of life or his identity and skills. Being a Witcher has more disadvantages than positive aspects to it, which Jaskier will unfortunately soon become aware of.

“Does that happen often?” Jaskier whispers, later when he’s curled up next to Geralt, wrapped up in his blanket. His anger seems to have been replaced by worry and sympathy, not that Geralt prefers these emotions in him.

“I’m used to it,” he answers. It keeps everything vague enough, all of the problems he encounters in his life because of who and what he is.

“They’re wrong,” Jaskier repeats again and Geralt hums and tells him to sleep.

He wakes up a couple of hours later and immediately notices that something is wrong; it is cold, there’s no warm body next to him, no soft snoring in the clear winter air or relaxed fingers on Geralt’s chest. Jaskier is gone.

“Fuck,” Geralt swears quietly, and then gets up and finds Roach. It doesn’t need a genius to figure out where the reckless pup went, and Geralt can only pray to the Gods that Jaskier didn’t manage to get himself into trouble yet. Damnit, this will likely warrant more than just a few swats on Jaskier’s bottom and he’s not looking forward to that kind of conversation.

He urges Roach into a fast gallop through the narrow but thankfully empty streets of the town and only pulls at her reins when the inn comes into sight, and eventually also Jaskier, who stands in front of it. In this moment, Geralt is grateful for his enhanced eyesight, since he can see at first glance that Jaskier doesn’t seem hurt.

He gets off Roach and is by Jaskier’s side in an instant. “What the fuck were you thinking?!” he wants to know but keeps his voice low. It’s best not to wake any suspicious and possibly violent townsfolk during the night.

“I had to teach them a lesson,” Jaskier replies, also in a quiet but defensive voice. “They shouldn’t treat you like that.”

Well shit, he thought of Jaskier being more intelligent than that. There is no way he can change what the world thinks of Geralt, no matter how hard he tries or what he does.

Geralt curls a hand around Jaskier’s arm. “We’re leaving. Don’t think we won’t talk about it.”

“Fine. They deserved it.”

Tense, and listening to the noises around them, Geralt pulls Jaskier with him onto Roach. No one of them says a word until they reach camp again, where Jaskier slips out of the saddle first and musters Geralt expectantly.

“You can punish me for it, I don’t care. I won’t let them say these things without consequences.”

“You’re not a nobleman anymore, you have no power over what they choose to do,” Geralt reminds him firmly. “And if you risk your life in such a thoughtless manner ever again, I won’t hesitate to buy a fucking cane for your sorry backside. Do you hear me?” He finishes tying Roach to a tree and turns to Jaskier. There have been incidents where people fled from him when he glared at them like this but Jaskier only narrows his eyes and doesn’t look guilty at all.

“Fine. Buy a cane. I would do it again.”

“You won’t. I’ll make sure of that.” It wasn’t supposed to sound like a threat, more like a warning, and Geralt can’t help but wince at the tone of it.

For one short second, Jaskier looks uncertain, but he quickly regains his composure. “I know you won’t hurt me…”

“I won’t.” Geralt shakes his head. “Though the next time we find a room in an inn you won’t be able to sit comfortably. Be prepared for that.”

At this promise, Jaskier stays quiet and does what Geralt tells him to, packs their bedrolls and belongings. They leave not long after, since Geralt doesn’t want to risk staying where the people in town could easily find them if they wanted to. He still doesn’t know what exactly Jaskier did, but they have time to clarify that later, when it’s safer and when Geralt is calmer. Maybe then Jaskier will also realize why actions like these are too dangerous.

They ride the whole night until they reach another small town, hopefully far enough from any revenge-seeking folk. The innkeeper there is more tolerant and rents them a small room that is clean and warm, which is all that Geralt needs.

“Get some sleep,” he says to Jaskier after they fed Roach and Daisy and found a place for them in the stable, and settles down on the floor to meditate. Things can honestly be so fucking difficult sometimes.

Jaskier curls up on the bed, but quietly observes Geralt instead of sleeping. “Are you angry?” he asks softly.

“Sleep, Jaskier.”

“Yes, Sir…”

“And don’t call me that.”

Eventually, it is quiet in the tiny room and Geralt can only hear Jaskier’s slow breathing and the rustling noise when he turns in bed and moves the blanket. They both need time to settle down and think about what happened.

To be fair, Geralt has no idea how to move on. At Kaer Morhen there were strict rules and instructions he and Eskel and Lambert had to follow, and they knew what would happen if they didn’t. But now there are no rules, no guidelines that Geralt can consider and use as advice, he has to figure out everything on his own, and that scares him more than he would like to admit. Killing drowners and werewolves is one thing, being responsible for someone else is quite another. He genuinely dislikes having to discipline Jaskier, but he also knows it’s necessary, especially in this case. Geralt cannot lose him to an angry mob that only sees his friendship to a Witcher.

He waits until noon to gently shake Jaskier’s shoulder to wake him up. “Jaskier…”

“Mh? What? No… Don’t want to get up…”

“Yes, you do. You need to eat.”

At the mention of a hearty meal, Jaskier sits up and rubs his eyes. “Food sounds good?”

“Hm.” Geralt has to agree with him on that and a short while later they sit downstairs, a steaming bowl of pork stew in front of each of them. It really does make the day a lot better, though Geralt is aware of the unpleasant task that lays ahead of him.

“So what did you to do that innkeeper?” he wants to know in between two bites.

Thoughtfully, Jaskier chews on a piece of pork meat. “I found some nice muck and dung in the nearby pigpen that I put on the doorstep and under the windows of the inn. Nothing that could resemble an adequate vengeance but I did my best. You don’t like it?”

Geralt briefly closes his eyes. It’s better than he expected and definitely less vicious than he imagined. Still, he has to make a lasting impression. “No, I don’t like it. Do you know why?”

“Because it’s not enough?”

“No. People generally don’t like my kind that much and by travelling with me you’ve become a walking target for their resentment. I don’t want you to be hurt simply because you felt like you had to defeat my honour. It would be a stupid and pointless death.”

Jaskier pales at the mention of him possibly dying but stubbornly defends his view. “It’s not pointless to me.”

He’s a brave little shit, Geralt has to give him that. Unwise, but brave nonetheless.

“I don’t give a fuck about your opinion on it. I won’t let you get killed, understood? Not like this, not when it can be prevented.”

Jaskier nods, albeit reluctantly. “Sorry…”

“You’re sorry for what?” This is the point that he needs Jaskier to really grasp in all its entity, lest he will walk right into the possibility of getting impaled by a pitchfork again.

Jaskier groans quietly. “For risking my life?”

“Good. And?”

His second answer is less bratty. “For worrying you. I really am sorry about that, Geralt.”

Geralt appreciates his apology, he really does, but that doesn’t change his decision. During the following nights, Jaskier will likely sleep on his stomach.

“Thank you. Now eat your stew, we will have another conversation about it upstairs.”

They both know what he means by that, and Geralt doesn’t miss the way Jaskier avoids his eyes and slows down his eating significantly. Geralt lets him stall, just this time. It’s not like he’s looking forward to Jaskier’s punishment either.

Eventually, their bowls are empty, however, and Jaskier drags his feet up the stairs and into their room. Geralt closes the door behind them.

“Um, so… Where do you want me? Can I keep my pants on? You didn’t really get a cane while I was sleeping, did you?” Jaskier laughs nervously. “Geralt… Fuck, please don’t bring me back? I won’t do it again.”

And where did that fear even come from? Did Geralt not carefully watch his words when he was scolding him?

“I won’t bring you back to your father, you know that. But we have to deal with this.” Geralt takes a seat on the bed and beckons Jaskier over to him.

Jaskier nods and swallows hard. Hesitantly, he makes his way over to Geralt, undoes his pants and shoves them down with his underwear before Geralt even has to ask. Then he drapes himself over Geralt’s lap, takes a deep breath and eventually lies still. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles into the pillow.

Geralt gently puts his left hand on the small of his back. “I know, songbird. You’ll get my hand first, then my belt.” He remembers warning Jaskier about spanking him every evening for a week should he endanger his own life once more, but he can’t bring himself to follow through with that vow.

“Yes, Geralt.”

“Good boy.”

Geralt brings his hand down hard and Jaskier flinches. “Oh, _fuck_ …” Throughout the following slaps he hisses and moans while Geralt first reddens his right, then his left cheek, and he squirms when Geralt focuses on his thighs.

“Not there!”

Geralt curls his fingers around Jaskier’s wrist and carefully pulls it away from where Jaskier tries to shield his sore skin. “I know. It will be over soon.”

Jaskier whimpers and buries his head deeper into the pillow, but doesn’t fight back when Geralt brings down harsh and quick strikes on his arse and his thighs. Geralt knows how it feels to be on the receiving end and he doesn’t spank as slow and deliberate as during the beginning of the punishment, but faster and with a closed hand now, so he’s ridiculously proud of Jaskier for taking it so well.

Panting and hissing, Jaskier locks his legs and cries out at every slap that rains down on his cheeks. “Geralt- ow! N-no more, please! I’m sorry! Just stop for- for one second!”

Geralt continues, although his hand begins to sting and he can only imagine how it feels for Jaskier. But the pup earned this and Geralt has to be strict in order to emphasize the reason behind the discipline.

“You will not risk your life to defend my honour. Are we clear?”

“Yes! I’ll… I’ll be good!”

Fuck, Geralt hates this. Jaskier’s cries seem like daggers that push deep into his heart and he finishes the first part of the punishment with a slap to Jaskier’s right thigh and then soothingly rubs over the sore skin while Jaskier’s body still slightly shakes with sobs.

“I’m… s-so sorry…”

“I know.” Geralt can feel the heat of his arse even without touching it and Jaskier clutches the blanket in his hand like his life depends on it. “You did very well.” Even after spending this much time around him, Geralt still feels awkward praising Jaskier, but he also knows that Jaskier loves any kind of approval, so Geralt tries his best to give him assurance and comfort, particularly in moments like these. “Good boy…”

“S-sorry, Sir…”

“Geralt,” Geralt corrects Jaskier softly.

“Geralt…” Jaskier snivels and turns his head towards him. “Sorry… So sorry…”

“Shh, you’ll be alright. We’re almost done.” Geralt helps Jaskier off his lap where he stands on shaky legs and looks much younger than he is. His eyes are red, his hair is completely dishevelled and he bites his lip and briefly glances at Geralt’s belt.

“No more, please,” Jaskier pleads, and Geralt is close to ending his punishment in this instant.

“You’ll get five with my belt. Lean over the bed.”

His instructions cause a fresh round of tears and Jaskier wipes at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt before he obeys. Geralt gently places his shirttails out of the way, takes off his belt and folds it in half. The whole situation reminds him of his own punishments at Kaer Morhen but the clenching and apprehensive sensation in his stomach is much worse. If this is what Vesemir felt every time he had to punish him, Geralt regrets getting into trouble even more.

He rests the belt against Jaskier’s arse for one second and then brings it down, with a lot less force than previously. Nevertheless, Jaskier cries out and winces, and Geralt knows it must have hurt over his earlier spanking. Welts forms where the belt hit his skin and Geralt hates the sight of it.

The next three strikes are fast and Jaskier howls and stomps his foot. “Geralt!”

“One more.” It’s as much comfort to him as it is to Jaskier.

He brings it down with great unwillingness and then lets the belt fall to the floor to pull Jaskier upright and into his arms for a hug. Fuck punishments, fuck rules, and fuck the awful people in this world that would hurt Jaskier for defending Geralt. The only thing that is important now is to comfort Jaskier while he sobs and clings to his chest.

“Forgive me,” Geralt murmurs and breathes in the sweet smell of honey and chamomile that surrounds Jaskier like a cloud. He will do his best to protect him, always.

“Didn’t mean to… Sorry… Won’t-won’t be bad again...,” Jaskier manages to bring out between sobs. “Don’t leave me…”

Geralt tightens his arms around him. “I won’t. You know I won’t.”

They stay like this for a long time, until Jaskier’s breathing becomes slower and not interrupted by sobs anymore, and until takes a step back and wipes his eyes again. “That’s it?”

Geralt nods. Fuck, yes. They’re finally done. “That’s it, songbird.”

Jaskier smiles weakly and it’s balm for Geralt’s soul. “I like that name.”

“Glad you do.” He wants to hug Jaskier for some more, but stays where he is and carefully studies his expression. Jaskier looks young and disorientated, his pants still around his ankles, but he’s not tense, not anxious, and there’s no trace of fear or panic in the air. He’s not scared of Geralt, not even after this.

“We can cuddle now, yes?” Jaskier asks and steps out of his boots and pants, so that he’s only wearing his shirt. It’s not like Geralt has never seen him naked, but a part of him is still amazed that Jaskier trusts him enough to be this vulnerable around him. “Please?”

“Of course. Everything you want.”

There is no chance that he can deny any of Jaskier’s wishes now, and Geralt is vaguely aware that this could be an actual problem in the future, but in this very moment, he doesn’t care.

“Ohh, I want a lot, Geralt. But we can start with cuddling. Just you and me?”

Whatever that is supposed to mean – Geralt will try to give him whatever he needs. Maybe Jaskier is still a slightly spoiled noble brat, and maybe Geralt should have been stricter, and maybe they both know that despite his recent punishment, Jaskier will gladly punch any man in the face should he dare to insult Geralt, but…

But maybe this is exactly what makes their bond even stronger and their days less lonely.

“Hmm.” Geralt makes himself comfortable on the bed, lets Jaskier nestle against him and pulls the blanket over them.

Safe at last.

**Author's Note:**

> I am back! I am back, guys! :D  
> Thank you for all of your lovely comments on "NMOP" and welcome to another part of the story and a new chapter in the lives of our two idiots. (Yes, they're both still sort of idiots... It's okay, I think.)  
> Uh, so this is not the complete second part that I promised, and more of a linked oneshot but I hope you'll like it anyway?  
> Maybe there will be more in the future, since I still like this fic and want it to continue...  
> Have a nice evening!


End file.
